


Love under the FILODENDRON

by Ravensmores



Series: Tumblr Prompts [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, Angst and Porn, BAMF Katsuki Yuuri, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Car Sex, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Desk Sex, Don't copy to another site, Implied Violence, M/M, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Rating May Change, Romantic meatball dinners, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Russian Mafia, Sex in an ikea showroom, Smut, Top Victor Nikiforov, Victor has a handyman fetish, Wall Sex, because of course, blame the Isekai Zine Discord, ikea au, kind of crack?, nothing too bad, store owner Katsuki Yuuri, this may become porn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-09-30 15:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravensmores/pseuds/Ravensmores
Summary: “It’s simple.” Victor slowly paces around the edge of the dimmed office, voice measured and cool as he turns to regard the manager. “Pay for our… protection, and you won’t have to worry about your store mysteriously losing power once the sun goes down.”Yuuri seems unfazed, the tiger stripes of streetlight glowing through the blinds illuminating the relaxed smile still painting his face. “I think we can live without it. I’ve gotten through tougher scrapes.”“Oh really?” He takes a measured step forward, casually brushing the edge of his suit jacket away to reveal the gun holstered there. “That makes two of us.”When the Russian Mafia comes knocking at his store, IKEA manager Yuuri isn’t going to take things lying down... no matter hard Victor tries.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the Isekai Zine Discord I now know that when IKEA tried to set up a store in St Petersburg, they refused to pay a bribe so had to buy a bunch of generators because the government threatened to turn off their power if they didn’t cooperate.
> 
> Thus THIS was born

“It’s simple.” Victor slowly paces around the edge of the dimmed office, voice measured and cool as he turns to regard the manager. “Pay for our… _protection_ , and you won’t have to worry about your store mysteriously losing power once the sun goes down.”

Yuuri seems unfazed, the tiger stripes of streetlight glowing through the blinds illuminating the relaxed smile still painting his face. “I think we can live without it. I’ve gotten through tougher scrapes.”

“Oh really?” He takes a measured step forward, casually brushing the edge of his suit jacket away to reveal the gun holstered there. “That makes two of us.”

Yuuri leans forward to rest his head in his palm, those coppered eyes playful behind his glasses. “So you say you’re a man of many talents Victor?”

“Absolutely.” He doesn’t hide the smirk flavouring his tone.

_He knows how good he is._

Yuuri abruptly stands from behind his desk and strides over to him, his words as firm as his gaze. “Well then. How about this, you prove yourself to me with one simple test and I’ll pay you double.”

“Not normally how this works but for someone like you,” he slowly reaches over to run a gloved finger against his bottom lip, voice low. “I’ll humour you.”

Yuuri smiles against the brief caress, the small tease in his expression unmissable as he speaks.

“Spell SÖDERSVIK.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is a series now?

“Judging by the books this week, you didn’t get the money from that IKEA place.”

Yakov isn’t a man who ever looks pleased, but judging but the reddened fingers currently clamped like a vice around his cigar, Victor is fairly certain he wasn’t called into his office so he can invite him golfing.

“I will.” He stands with practiced confidence in front of the desk, trying to ignore the pointed smirk of his protégé Yuri sitting on the couch by the wall, accounts gripped firmly between his hands.

Yakov raises an eyebrow. “It’s not like you to come back empty handed.”

“Unless some pretty-boy bats his eyelashes the right way,” Yuri murmurs, producing his own cigarette from his pocket and reclining against the plush cushions as he goes to light it.

Victor has the lighter out of his hand before he can even put the thing in his mouth.

“I’ll get it,” Victor assures him as firmly as he can, ignoring the bite of Yuri’s whispered curse. He’s surprised Yakov is still as spry as he is considering the near-constant blanket of parching smoke enveloping his office, and frankly Yuri didn’t need a piece of that action yet. “The manager of the store turned out to have more of a spine than we imagined.”

He’d dealt with countless business owners before, most easier to break than the vase he’d smashed in frustration on the way out of the store… but not Yuuri. Something about watching him assemble a cabinet in under thirty minutes without wasting a single screw had ignited a fire in him he’s certain he’d never felt before, the thought of whether there’s a such thing as a _handyman fetish_ floating around his mind for the rest of the evening.

Yakov takes another long drag of the cigar, regarding the mess of papers in front of him. “Well, I suppose we don’t want to disturb the peace until we have absolutely have to.” He looks up to catch Victor’s gaze again, dark eyes narrowing. “Though it would be extremely… _inconvenient_ if somewhere like that got in the way of the plans we have for that neighbourhood.”

Victor swallows the retch as he buries the memory of what happened last time someone refused to cooperate. It was his first real taste of proper mob work back when he was little more than a kid himself, just a lackey for one of the lower flunkies of the organisation.

_It had taken him weeks to get the stains out of the carpet._

“Give me thirty days. Trust me, they’ll pay.”

“They better,” his retort is instant. Sharp. “You begged for control of this area so it’s your job to sort it out.” He punctuates the end of his sentence by jamming the end of the cigar into the ash tray causing an audible crack. Yuri fails to hide his flinch at the noise.

Victor curtly nods and turns on his heels, the beginnings of a plan starting to formulate in his head.

_Yuuri was cute, but Yakov didn’t exactly get to be where he is by asking nicely._

“Oh and Vitya-” He turns his face as he reaches the door, Yakov running his hands against the edge of the polished wood in front of him. “Thank you for the new desk.”

Victor smiles as he exits, murmuring as silently as he can.

_“Varsågod.”_

 


	3. Chapter 3

It’s been a while since Victor has eaten anywhere that wasn’t five-star. Since he’s often dealing with people who routinely beat others to death, he wants to make sure that an improperly cooked steak isn’t the reason he ends up bleeding out in some back alley. Despite that, he has to give Yuuri credit for the quality of his store’s little restaurant. With the lights dimmed, the place deserted and the flicker of the lone candle between their two entrees, he could almost pretend he was here just for the pleasure.

_Almost._

“Why won’t you just pay it?”

He sees Yuuri visibly exhale, the resigned frustration flashing across his face clear even in the low light. “I don’t think I should have to.”

Victor leans back in his chair, feeling like he’s having a conversation with the prettiest brick wall he’s ever seen. He’d tried every tactic he knew: polite, angry, seductive, he’d only just stopped short of kidnapping his dog because… come on even gang members have standards.

Nothing worked on Yuuri.

His resolve was as sturdy as the furniture Victor always ended up taking away with him, the frustration at his lack of cooperation greater than when he tried to put them together.

“It really would make things so much easier-”

“For who!?” His voice cuts like the gun shot through the quiet, his fork clattering against his plate as he stands. “You? Your boss? From what I’ve gathered it’s definitely not going to help me, or my customers.”

Victor sighs and carefully walks over to him, grateful the pistols normally hidden under his coat were left in his office. “I’m not saying this out of courtesy anymore. If you don’t-” He bites his lip, pushing an old blood-stained memory away. “They’re going to hurt you.”

“You mean _you’re_ going to hurt me.”

The inflection stings, but he knows he’s not in a position to lie right now.

“Maybe.”

Yuuri shakes his head and starts to clear away the crockery, deliberately avoiding Victor’s gaze. “You know what kind of people I really despise? More than anyone else?” He shoves the dirty plates in Victor’s hands before sharply turning towards the kitchen. “Bullies. People taking advantage because they can and frankly, I’m not going to just roll over and take it.”

Victor resists the urge to smash them against the floor, instead following him towards the back as he tries to keep his tone level. “It’s just the way it works around here.”

“Well it shouldn’t.”

“Yuuri-”

He holds up his hands, his shoulders sagging a little as he lets out a beleaguered sigh. “I’d just prefer if my customers could buy well-built and reasonably priced flatpack furniture without having to worry about mob ties.”

Victor feels the last ounce of his patience snap.

Slamming the crockery down on the side, he ignores Yuuri’s flinch as he roughly grabs onto his chin to force their eyes to meet. He keeps his expression rigid. “Is your pride really worth your business? Your life?”

Yuuri immediately jerks away from his grip, rubbing the back of his hand against the redness there as he firmly holds his gaze. “If it’s going to help change things around here even a little, then yes.”

The statement hangs in the air for a few seconds.

Victor can feel the heated frustration between them threatening to boil over, and when that happens with him it never ends cleanly.

“ _Fine_ ,” he spits coldly, turning on his heels and stalking back towards the entrance. “Do what you want.” As he reaches the door, he briefly flicks his eyes back towards the café, Yuuri’s hardened expression still clear as a beacon as he watches him leave.

Victor sighs. “Thanks for the meatballs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting weirdly serious.


	4. Chapter 4

“Judging by that insufferable grin on your face, you must have some very good news.”

Victor ignores Yakov’s backhanded remark, instead making a show of pulling the heavy manila envelope from behind his back and dropping it onto the desk in front of him with an audible thud.

“I believe you’re owed this.”

Yakov raises a wirey eyebrow. “What is it?”

“The IKEA money. They paid in full.” Victor reclines in the opposite chair, expression as smug as his words. “Even managed to get them to throw in something a little extra for making you wait.”

Yakov’s expression remains sceptical as he slices through the top with a letter opener, before taking his time running his thumb over the carefully stacked bills inside. After a few minutes, he puts it down and stamps his cigarette out in his ashtray, his eyes meeting Victor’s with a lot less restrained annoyance than usual. “Good work.” As he speaks, he reaches into the desk in front of him and pulls out what Victor knows to be his good whisky.

It’s almost strange seeing him smile as he slides a chilled tumblr across the table to Victor, his voice is lacking its usual sandpapered malice. “Glad to see you aren’t losing your edge.”

Victor rolls his eyes as he takes the glass, slowly swirling the honeyed liquid inside before raising it to his mouth. “Please. That could never happen.”

Yakov take a long deliberate sip before putting his glass down, gesturing to the map carefully laid out on the edge of his desk. “You keep this up and you’re going to be well on your way to leading our downtown project.”

“Oh I’m looking forward to it,” he murmurs with a wink as he tosses back the rest of the drink, the burn in his stomach almost nothing to do with the alcohol.

…

Barely a dozen paces outside of Yakov’s office he’s greeted by an irate looking Yuri, his mouth set into what Victor assumes is a near-constant icy scowl.

“Well don’t you look unusually happy today,” he quips as he saunters past, wondering if there’s anywhere good to get meatballs at this hour.

“They didn’t pay.”

The quiet remark halts him. “Excuse me?”

Yuri slowly steps in front of him, expression sharp. “They didn’t pay. I know that money was yours.”

“What makes you say that?” He keeps his words measured as he reaches out to lightly press his hand against Yuri’s shoulder and lead them down a quieter corridor.

“Well you didn’t exactly look like you were carrying that much cash when you left there last time.”

“Have you been watching me?” He flicks his eyes around the walls, acutely aware of the reach of the security cameras piercing stares. “Did Yakov tell you to?”

Yuri gestures to the papers under his arms, eyes narrowing. “It’s my job you idiot.”

Victor turns them down another corridor, the yellowed flicker of the fluorescent lights above them dimmer towards this end of the building. “Well aren’t you thorough.”

Yuri stops and turns to him, an aggravating smirk dancing in his eyes. “Yakov is _not_ going to happy if he finds out.”

He sees his calm in his expression shatter in the reflection of an office widow.

The grip on Yuri’s shoulder suddenly tightens as he pushes him roughly against the wall, his hand slammed next to his face as he cages him there with his full height. Yuri fails to supress his flinch, a brief panic flashing across his expression as Victor’s voice drops, a power he took years to cultivate dripping cold and effortless with each word. “And _what_ exactly are you going to do with this information Yuri?” He still has both hand guns holstered by his hips, but he knows he doesn’t need to draw them.

_Yuri’s already seen exactly how he cleans up messes that annoy him first hand._

He takes a visible breath before catching Victor’s gaze again, words faltering like a dying breeze. “Nothing yet.”

“ _Good_.” The retort is as blunt as ice, his face still but a breath from Yuri’s so each word bites sharply across his skin. “Since you’re apparently acting as stupid as your age, I’ll give you the courtesy of one warning.” He pulls the files from Yuri’s hands, not breaking eye contact as he carelessly tosses them over his shoulder. “You can’t blackmail me.”

Yuri takes a second to process the threat, before his usual demeanour starts to bleed back into his expression. “I wasn’t going to.” He pushes away from Victor’s body, scowl set firmly back in place as he makes his way over to his mess of paperwork. “No need for the scare tactics. Yakov’s happy as long as he gets his money, so there’s no point telling him otherwise.” He briefly pauses and turns to face Victor again, the IKEA documents scrunched firmly between his fingers. “Although, the money’s not really going to be an issue if that little piggy of a manager won’t cooperate once… _other_ plans are set into motion.”

Victor sighs, his stance loosening a little at the reminder. “I know.”

Yuri continues to clear the files, the sharpness to his voice melting a little. “Both of you will have to face the consequences if you don’t sort this out.”

Victor shakes his head. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“You’re an idiot,” he murmurs as Victor steps over the mess of papers, one firm destination in mind. “I’ve seen what you can do, you’ve never once hesitated.” He stands and puts a hand on Victor’s arm, something that could almost be called concern lacing his tone. “Is he really worth it?”

Victor briefly stops. He knows he’s killed for less. A lot less.

When people didn’t cooperate he’d never once given a second thought to the sounds of bones crunching against his fingers or to the amount of blood soaked into his work gloves as he threw them into the furnace. It was his job, what he was good at. What Yakov had told him he was born to do the first time he pressed a gun into his hand and guided it towards the gagged faces of the family that abandoned him.

But with Yuuri? He can’t quite put his finger on it. Something instinctual had kicked in when he’d returned from dinner, not taking a second to hesitate as he opened his safe and systematically counted out what Yuuri owed. It made no sense, this the first time he’d actually thought about someone outside of the organisation… and the surprise kind of thrills him.

He briefly turns back towards Yuri, a playful smile he’d almost forgotten he could make painting his lips.

“Honestly? Right now I’m not even sure.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, this is an actual story now

 

“We’re closed you know.”

Victor smiles as he hears Yuuri’s voice cut through the stillness behind him, tone rich and firm as usual.

He straightens himself from where he was leant over a shelf carefully surveying a selection of sheets, and turns to greet the other man.  “Sorry, I just can’t decide,” he murmurs as he holds up the two duvet covers clutched in his hands. “I’ve never been good with colours.”

Yuuri audibly sighs and reaches out, quickly plucking the covers out of his hands and placing one back on the rack behind them. “Definitely the blue,” he comments softly as he tucks the remaining sheet under his arm, “It goes better with your eyes.”

He raises an eyebrow at the comment, something sweet and satisfying softly stoking in his gut as he takes a step closer to Yuuri. “Have been thinking about my eyes a lot?”

“No, but they’re certainly-” He drops his gaze, expression impassive in the dim light around them, “ -softer than I thought.” He quickly turns and starts to head out of the aisle, words gentle but clear. “They remind me of the sea back home.”

Victor swears he catches the faintest blush blooming warmly across the back of Yuuri’s neck as he follows him across the polished floor. It’s almost _distractingly_ cute.  “Why I think that might be the first compliment you’ve paid me since I met you,” he remarks as they approach the checkout, Yuuri manoeuvring behind it to ring him up.

He rolls his eyes as he places the duvet cover in a plastic bag. “Well, when we first met did you expect me to be complimentary?”

“Hmmmm, perhaps not, but it’s nice to hear.” He leans across the counter, chin resting in his upturned palm as he lowers his voice. “Maybe you could tell me some other thigs you’ve been thinking about.”

Yuuri shakes his head but can’t hide the soft pink slowly spreading across his cheeks, now matching the dusting of colour on his neck. “I think I’m just in a good mood.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I had a very… interesting letter thanking me for my generous payment.” He looks up, a dark eyebrow raised. “Looks like our lights are staying on.”

Victor laughs softly again as he passes Yuuri his credit card, ignoring the warmth left by the brush of his fingers. “Well. I’m glad it all worked out.”

“Yeah,” he hums, dropping his eyes again as he watches the receipt print. “Me too.”

He stands in silence as Yuuri finishes the transaction and hands him the purchase. Looking over he’s met with a smile he _knows_ hasn’t seen before. Small, soft yet… genuine. It’s the first time in a long while that someone has looked at Victor with any kind of tenderness in their expression, his dark eyes vibrant and deep, swirling with the hues of a rich autumn.

_He knows he’ll be thinking about those for a while when he leaves._

As he takes the bag from him, he sees Yuuri’s fingers briefly linger against his hand, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Before he has a chance to move, his wrist is suddenly caught in a soft grip, Yuuri’s hands hot as each finger digs gently into his skin.

Victor flicks his eyes up in confusion. “Yuuri?”

Yuuri blinks slowly, something unreadable flashing across his expression before he visibly takes a breath. _“Thank you.”_

The words are barely a whisper in the cool air, yet seem to echo with the power of a desperate shout in Victor’s mind.

It takes him a second to respond.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he murmurs, gently pulling his wrist from Yuuri’s hand, “besides, I thought I was just a bully.” He doesn’t mean to say it, the words slightly soured as they leave his mouth. Name calling had never bothered him before. In his line of work, he’d been called much _much worse,_ yet something about the coldness of Yuuri’s tone those days ago had the words sitting heavy and sharp in the back of his mind for a lot longer than he would have liked.

Yuuri sighs and casts his eyes back down, voice still soft as the sheets in Victor’s bag. “Well I’m finding myself more surprised every day.” He shuts the register with a defined click, “I guess people can change.”

There’s a beat of silence between them as Yuuri continues bagging Victor’s purchase.

He bites his tongue as the curiosity to know what he really means burns almost painfully in his mouth, a conflict he’s been fighting for weeks bubbling hot and loud to the surface of his mind.

It’s Victor’s job to get what he wants, and right now he _really_ knows what he wants.  What he wants to do, what he wants to say, where he wants to touch and hold and press… but he can’t.

He wants to ignore it, pretend that he doesn’t know what it means when he wakes up with the taste of Yuuri’s name on his lips, when sometimes all he can think about the flex of his forearms when he’s twisting a Phillips head or the crinkles around his eyes when he takes his glasses off to clean them. Under all his bravado, his teasing, the aggravation at his stubbornness, deep down he knows exactly what those long-forgotten flashes of sweetness mean.

And also how he doesn’t have the luxury of those kinds of feelings anymore.

He’s seen what happens in these kinds of situations countless times, sometimes marked bloody and wet against his own hands when he’s the one charged with cleaning up the mess.

He shakes the images away.

_Not Yuuri. Never to Yuuri._

“Why did you do it?” The words snap him out of his spiralling thoughts, Yuuri’s soft interest bright in his eyes as he meets his gaze.

Victor pales. “What do you-”

“Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot.” His voice is sharp as he rounds the cash register, arms folded defensively against his chest. He keeps his eyes locked with Victor’s, his posture firm. “Tell me why. I deserve to know.”

Victor tries to repress his sigh. They were words he desperately hoped he wouldn’t hear today, yet knew the instant he crept in through the back entrance that he’d have to answer them.

And for some reason he didn’t have a good answer planned.

He shakes his head, exhaling slowly and carefully stitching his trademark smirk back into place. “Well I’m redecorating and if this place is gone, the nearest furniture store is about ten miles away.” He can’t stop the wink as he absentmindedly takes a step closer. “Plus those meatballs were _divine._ ”

He feels a stab of guilt at the annoyance that flashes across Yuuri’s expression. He knows what he’s saying isn’t the answer he wants, but he’s also acutely aware how dangerous the truth is right now, how maybe if he keeps treating this like the game is used to be, he can minimise the pain he knows is rolling dark and bitter on the horizon.  

Yuuri opens his mouth to dispute his teases before shutting it abruptly and shaking his head. “Right.”

Victor keeps the practiced grin on his face as he forces himself to take a few steps backwards, plans about what he should do next something he desperately needs to go and work on. He holds up a hand as he goes to turn, voice as smooth as he can make it. “Well, I should probably-”

“Do you want some more?”

Victor stops moving at the sudden question. “What?”

Yuuri slowly takes a few steps forward, for the first time since Victor has known him something almost nervous colouring the melody of his voice. “If you don’t have anywhere else to be, I can make you some more.”

Victor swallows.

He knows what he _should_ say, knows that he could probably count a thousand reasons why he should turn, leave and never make contact with him again.

“I’d love some.”

_However, he also knows that there was never going to be another answer to that question._

That soft smile is back as he reaches out and takes the bag from Victor’s hand, eyes darkening a little as his tone drops to something rougher. Something _playful._ “You know, I actually think this isn’t the right bedding for you.”

Victor chuckles again. “Really?”

He nods as he drops it behind them, not hesitating as closes the remaining inches between them, hands suddenly curling around the lapels of Victor’s suit jacket “I’m picturing you as someone who’d be more comfortable in silks.”

If there was anything that could make Victor question the ties to his job, it’s the downright unfair combination of the darkly sweet look dancing in the coppered swirl of Yuuri’s eyes and the feel of his body being _just_ close enough to give him a warm taste of all that hidden skin.

_Oh fuck it._

“Well maybe you should take a look at my current bed then,” he murmurs as he gently takes Yuuri’s chin between his gloved fingers and feeling the heat pulse between them as he leans down to breathe softly against his ear. _“And then you can decide for yourself which feels better.”_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this chapter is longer than the entire fic was previously.
> 
> Consistency? What's that?
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter where this fic earns its E rating.

The first time, it’s just for fun. That’s what Victor tells himself at least.

Then again, it’s hard to hold on to any kind of coherent thought as he buries his face in the warm curve of Yuuri’s neck, desperately trying to keep balance as he mercilessly fucks him under the dim lights of the store’s main office.

_“Oh God… Fuck… Yes… Fuck right there…”_

Yuuri’s staccatoed gasps bounce firmly between the shadowed walls, breath hot against Victor’s ear as the hand buried in his hair tugs a little harder. The sharp pain barely registers as Victor turns his head to scrape his teeth against Yuuri’s rabbiting pulse, the answering whine almost loud enough to shatter the crates of glassware ready to be unloaded in the corridor behind them.

To anyone watching it would be quite the sight, almost reminiscent of some cheesy scene from a bad porno. Victor’s trousers are shucked down by his ankles, the flat of Yuuri’s work shoes digging into the small of his back and a travel-sized packet of lube open and messy on the desk that’s slamming with rhythmic thuds against the wall from the force of their joint effort.

Victor can barely remember how they exactly got this this point. The warmed glances after dinner had soon turnedto touches, to kisses, to a desperate fumble of firm fingers and hungry lips as they tumbled their way through the back rooms looking for somewhere more private. Yuuri had briefly pulled his head away to hiss that his display rooms were out of the question _._ It was a brief disappointment to Victor as they looked so very comfy, but right now he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he’s drowning in the _sinfully_ good feeling of Yuuri bucking and clenching around him as he shifts his angle slightly, Yuuri’s cries piercing sharper through the heated air while Victor thrusts and nails his sweet spot again and again and again.

His fingers pinch harder into Yuuri’s sides as he feels another wave of heat smoulder between them, no doubt leaving inky marks against the canvas of his skin for the next few days. He feels himself smile at the thought. If there was one thing he was going to be damned sure of, it was that Yuuri wouldn’t be able to sit for a week without thinking of Victor’s cock inside him, of the feeling of his hands and his mouth claiming his body as he lost himself to the pleasure only _he_ could give him.

That was the plan at least. Yuuri’s stamina however was proving to be something else.

He’s been working him over for what felt like hours at this point, legs burning from the effort, skin slick and sticky under his shirt, every cooling image he could think of cycling on a loop in his mind but doing nothing to stop him barrelling towards the burning edge he can already feel pulsing under his skin.

He picks up the pace, the sound of his own laboured cries drowning out the lewd slap of flesh on flesh filling the space.

He tips over the edge sooner than he would have liked, biting down hard on the side of Yuuri’s neck as he rides the blistering crest of his high and finishes inside the condom. He stills for a minute to catch his breath, absentmindedly soothing the reddened indents from his teeth with a light stroke of his tongue.

He pulls back when he hears Yuuri’s quiet chuckle rumble from his chest. His face is stained red, lips pink and plump from where he’s bitten them, yet the subtle taunt painting his expression is hard to miss.

 _It’s Infuriating_.

“Done so soon?” Yuuri murmurs in hot in the air between them, leaning forward to press an aggravatingly soft kiss to Victor’s cheek. “I guess only one of us can promise 100% satisfaction in their line of work.”

He feels something inside him snap at the tease, the urge to litter the rest of his neck and chest with purpled bite marks flaring hotly through his mind. He resists, instead keeping cool eye contact with him as he reaches between them to grip his cock firmly in retaliation. Victor doesn’t suppress his own sharp grin at the way Yuuri’s eyelids flutter behind his glasses, hips rocking into his grasp as he starts to stroke him.

With the rhythm of his hand it doesn’t take long before he finds his pleasure as well. He comes in hot stipes across Victor’s fist, head dropping forward against his shoulder as he groans softly into his damp shirt.

Neither of them speaks as they straighten themselves.

Yuuri throws Victor the box of tissues on his desk as he fastens his remaining shirt buttons, absentmindedly rubbing the fresh marks still sorely present against his throat in the low light.

Victor keeps his eyes cast down as he fixes his clothes the best he can, hoping to God he doesn’t run into anyone from work before he can make it home. Even with Yuuri coming off with the worst of the love bites, his shirt is still wrinkled enough he might as well have slept in it, sweat darkening several areas, his hair plastered in a silvery mess against his forehead.

_He really doesn’t have the energy to think of a plausible excuse right now._

“That’s one way to test a desk.”

His head snaps up at Yuuri’s sudden comment. He’s casually leaning back against his desk, expression composed. Even with the tell-tale flush still hotly present across his cheeks and the patchwork of purple and red against his throat, he barely looks as wrecked as Victor feels right now.

It’s strange. Victor was always the one who always came out on top, who kept his composure steely and cool, who teasingly stood for a few seconds in the doorway before walking away while whoever it was that night begged him to stay.

And yet right now, he can’t stop the laugh that whispers past his lips at his words or the way he walks over to Yuuri to gently take his hand and bring it to his lips.

“You can definitely say it’s broken in now.”

He tries to ignore the softness in Yuuri’s gaze as his lips brush his knuckles, the way his eyes shift like melting honey in the low light, the subtle bob of his Adam’s Apple as he swallows, the fullness of his lower lip as he distractedly wets it with his tongue.

_You’ve taken this far enough Nikiforov._

He lets his mouth linger for a second more before he turns, brushing his hand as casually as he can through his hair and keeping his eyes set forward until he finally makes it outside.

It should be simple. He’d gotten what he wanted. What they both wanted. No reason to go back.

None at all.

He almost believes himself until he wakes in the middle of the night frustrated and painfully hard, visions of Yuuri’s eyes as he finished in Victor’s hand pulsing in vivid colour behind his eyelids.

***

The second time is coincidence. _Definitely_ just a coincidence.

There are a finite number of parks within walking distance of the IKEA, so it barely takes Victor a week of diverting his dog walking route before he finds Yuuri happily strolling along with his own puppy.

He’d intended to come off as smooth. Controlled. Casually suggest that they walk their dogs together, grab a coffee and then _maybe_ end up back between the heated walls of Yuuri’s office.

However, that all went out the window the minute he saw the tiny ball of toffee-coloured fluff excitedly bounding round Yuuri and jumping up and down in Victor’s presence.

He’s on his knees in seconds, whispering soft coos to the excitable miniature poodle as he lightly scratches them behind the ears. Any semblance of maintaining a cool persona dissolves when the small dog yips happily before rolling over onto his back, clearly wanting tummy rubs as well.

Yuuri chuckles and bends down next to him as they exchange pleasantries.

“What’s their name?” Victor asks as he continues to lightly pat the dog’s belly, their tiny torso wiggling happily on the grass.

Yuuri smiles as he watches the adorable show. “Vicchan.”

Victor swallows the involuntary squeak bubbling in his gut at how close it was to _Vitya_ , and how wonderful it sounded rolling off Yuuri’s tongue with such soft joy.

“What about this giant puppy?” Yuuri questions as he reaches over to rub Makkachin’s flank as she pads over, clearly annoyed at not being the centre of attention for once.

Victor’s heart melts a little at the sight, for a few seconds the reason he was here the furthest thing from his mind. “Makkachin. And she’s actually getting to be quite the old lady.”

Yuuri continues to heap praise on the extremely happy poodle, now matching Vicchan and rolling onto her back for more strokes. As Victor continues to pet the other dog, he notices Yuuri’s shoulders shaking slightly. Leaning forward, he catches the softest laughs escaping his lips as he gives Makkachin more attention.

“What’s so funny?”

Yuuri shakes his head, smile not fading. “She just really isn’t the kind of dog I’d imagine you having.”

Victor bites his lip against his own smirk. There’s a reason only one other person at his job knows about her.

As Yuuri keeps softly laughing, he can’t help but hold his hand to his heart in mock offence. “I’ll have you know she is a noble and faithful hound and has the strength to take down any man who’d dare attack her Daddy.”

Yuuri’s soft chuckles explode into full ripples of laughter at his words. He lifts his hands to wipe his eyes, before clearing his throat, voice stuttered with chuckles. “Th- that almost worked until you said _Daddy.”_ He continues for a few more seconds before turning back to Makkachin, voice syrupy sweet. _“You wouldn’t hurt anyone would you, you big fluffy pillow? You’re waaaaaay too adorable.”_

They talk a little more, then end up walking the perimeter of the park, dogs bounding happily in front of them as they saunter along slowly.

He can feel the heat start to grow between them a little as Yuuri casually reaches out to brush the length of his hand with his fingers, his eyes deep and dark.

Barely half an hour later, the dogs are patiently sitting outside the store, distracted with a bowl of treats as their owners pick up right where they left off those days ago.

Victor has his head thrown back against the cushions of the display sofa he’s currently sitting on while a shirtless Yuuri frantically rides him, one arm looped around his neck, his other hand gripped so firmly on the padding behind him his knuckles are white with the strain.

Victor outlasts Yuuri this time, a slicked hand working furiously over his cock and an insistent tongue flicking against his nipple until he finally stutters to an end. A shout loud enough to ricochet through the furthest corners of the bathroom section is pulled from Yuuri’s throat as he comes over Victor’s hand and shirt, chest heaving and scarlet from the effort.

It’s a beautiful sight.

Victor almost hates himself for thinking it, every movement between them making it increasingly harder to remind himself that this is just supposed to be physical. Just for pleasure. Just a sweet distraction to counteract the stress of preparing everything for the next big project at work. He tries to push the conflicting thoughts away as he continues to thrust up and chase his own end. It doesn’t take long, the sight of Yuuri so gorgeously mussed and pink in his lap quickly pushing him into his own orgasm, everything around him dissolving into spiralling heat and colours behind his eyelids.

He gasps roughly into Yuuri’s ear as he rides it out, before finally collapsing back against the cushions as his grip loosens on Yuuri’s hips.

He gives Victor a few seconds to catch his breath before he lifts himself off his softening cock, legs wobbling slightly as he stands.

Victor doesn’t say anything. All the feelings of the past hour are swirling in his mind in a heady confusing cocktail as he tries to ground himself in the moment. He concentrates on the faraway hum of the air conditioner as he fixes his clothes, trying to avoid looking directly at the adorable staggering mess tucking himself back into his trousers a few feet in front of him.

A few more long, quiet seconds stretch in front of them as Victor ties off the condom. He wants to say something, but more importantly he wants to say the _right_ thing. He isn’t a man who ever finds usually himself tongue-tied, the ability to talk his way into or out of difficult negotiations a skill required in his line of work, but now? Now all of his words are sticking in his throat at the sight of Yuuri running his fingers through his hair and pulling his shirt back on.

He sighs and reclines against the sofa, frustration at the situation growing more annoying with each passing minute.

Eventually he feels the cushion next to him dip, a warm hand suddenly around his tie. He doesn’t bat Yuuri’s hands away as he straightens it, something about the methodical way he loosens the silk and then slips the material between his fingers almost relaxing to watch.

Yuuri exhales slowly before he speaks, words calm and measured. “We probably shouldn’t do this again.” His soft smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes as he pushes the knot of the tie towards his collar before folding his hands back in his lap.

Victor takes in his resigned expression and sighs. “You’re right.” He’s knows that, knows that he desperately wanted to suggest the same thing, that there is no way this was any kind of good idea.

_And yet he can taste the disappointment prickling on his tongue at the words._

Yuuri shakes his head before leaning back and catching Victor’s gaze properly, words suddenly a little warmer. “It doesn’t mean you can’t stay for some kladdkaka though.”

Victor can’t help the small grin tugging at his lips at the way the strange word falls so effortlessly from Yuuri’s mouth.

He knows he shouldn’t stay, that he has a thousand things he needs to be doing right now and this really won’t help quell the conflicting storm of thoughts that raged so loudly in his mind whenever he thought about Yuuri... or saw any sort of well put together furniture set.

However he also knows that, after last time, an increasingly loud part of his mind desperately wants to know where this could go.

He leans in a little and raises an eyebrow. “Do I want to know what that is?”

Yuuri chuckles as he rolls his eyes and stands, gesturing in the direction of the restaurant. “Trust me. You do.”

***

The third time is angry.

Yuuri sees the blood under Victor’s fingernails, the powder burns on his hands, can smell the lingering scent of the musky basement he’s just come from and his eyes burn red with rage.

Victor watches his expression break and can almost taste the venom spitting from his mouth as he yells, voice pointed and ugly as it echoes through the store.

Victor gives as good as he gets, darkening the threat in his eyes and growling out each response with a cold, calculated malice he’s spent years sharpening. It had been enough to silence the most hardened criminals in the past.

Yuuri isn’t fazed.

He jabs at Victor’s chest with his finger as he raises his voice further, eyes blazing and hot. Victor narrows his expression at the touch, flicking his gaze down to his finger and back up to Yuuri, _daring_ him to do it again.

Yuuri ignores the menace in his eyes and jabs again as he speaks. Once. Twice. Three times.

As he goes to do it a fourth time, Victor suddenly has his wrist in a solid grip, breath hissing fiercely through his teeth as he grabs the other and pushes him up against the nearest wall. A pile of stacked boxes scatter to the ground as he firmly pushes past them.

Yuuri doesn’t struggle as Victor cages him there with his full height, his eyes still scorching with an angry intensity behind his glasses.

Victor drops his head a little, firmly squeezing each finger around Yuuri’s wrists as he quietly speaks. “You know what I am. And no one gets to talk to me like that.” He lowers his voice further, danger dripping from every syllable as the words whisper sharply against against Yuuri’s face. _“Especially you.”_

Yuuri doesn’t flinch. He stays quiet for a few seconds, his eyes boring hotly into Victor’s before he slowly lifts his head from the wall. His answering words are quiet but punch from his lips with pointed precision.

_“Fuck you.”_

The curse is swallowed from his lips barely a second after he speaks, Victor’s tongue opening his mouth with practiced skill. Yuuri doesn’t pull away, instead giving back in kind as he angles his head, tugging Victor’s bottom lip between his teeth as he fights to take control.

If there’s one way to describe this kiss, it’s violent. There’s no tenderness here, all the feelings of their fight coming together in a supernova of sensation as their mouths move in a slick mess of firm lips and hot moans.

Yuuri finally starts to pull against Victor’s hands, but he has him firmly as he continues to kiss him, his growing erection poking firmly at Yuuri’s hip. Victor is surprised when he stops pulling and instead hooks a leg around one of Victor’s to pull him closer, biting down again as he roughly grinds against him.

Victor briefly pulls his mouth away as he groans at the feeling. Yuuri presses his advantage and continues his movements, flexing his thigh to push them more firmly together.

Opening his eyes, his feels the anger flash with a bitter heat at the slight hint of satisfaction teasing in Yuuri’s eyes, the hard line of his mouth curved up into the smallest grin.

His mouth is back on Yuuri’s before he can spit out whatever witty line was swirling in his mind, releasing one hand to roughly tug down his zip and push his palm inside to rub Yuuri firmly over the top of his underwear.

He almost chuckles at the the embarrassingly loud whine that rumbles from Yuuri’s chest at the movement, before he slips his hand inside and starts to starts to stroke him firmly, moving his head to suck at his pulse point.

He feels his own satisfaction twist in his stomach as Yuuri’s freed arm wraps around his neck and pulls him closer, his breathing loud and ragged in the dark air. He hears a vague thump, possibly from Yuuri throwing his head back against the wall as he swipes his thumb across the tip of his cock, knowing full-well he’s getting the pressure _just right_ as he squeezes again.

He moves his head and starts to mouth firmly against his throat, savouring the way Yuuri’s Adam's Apple bobs as he drags his tongue across it. He relishes his moans as he sucks and bites his way across the sweet canvas of his neck, each fresh mark pressing a firm message into his skin.

_I’m in control. Me._

They fuck hard and fast.

Victor holds him up against the wall as he drives into him with a messy, determined rhythm. He drinks Yuuri’s loud cries of satisfaction from his mouth like the finest whisky, the pleasure burning in his gut each time the other man flexes his thighs around his middle.

He can feel his arms and his legs burning from the strain of holding him, but coupled with his determination to absolutely wreck him, there’s no way he’s going to show any hint of weakness. Especially now.

He desperately makes his point with every strong thrust of his hips, every strong flex of his fingers and nip of his teeth.

Yuuri gives back in equal measure, firmly pushing his hips against each of Victor’s thrusts, the pads of his fingers biting into Victor’s skin as he clings on with a bruising grip.

If there’s one thing Victor is, it’s a fast learner, so it doesn’t take long for him to find the right angle, soon nailing Yuuri’s prostate with every desperate movement. Yuuri’s voice rips through several decibels at the action, his legs clamping further around Victor’s waist as he rides his pleasure, come splashing between them in a hot mess.

Victor presses his face firmly into the curve of Yuuri’s neck as the other man comes down from his orgasm, desperate to ignore the sweet scarlet of his flushed face, the sight of his eyes fluttering as he finishes.

He know it’ll be too much.

It only takes a few more seconds before he’s coming in a stuttering flash of heat and pleasure. His legs give out as he finishes, instinctively holding onto Yuuri as they collapse into a gasping pile on the cool floor tiles.

It takes him a second to come back to himself. As the world snaps into warm focus around him, he suddenly registers the gentlest movement against the crown of his head. Finally opening his eyes fully, he catches the faraway look in Yuuri’s eyes, the deep blush on his face dissipating as his chest rises and falls rapidly against Victor’s body. For a few sweet seconds all the feelings of the past half an hour are whispered away from his mind, the fact that they were both curled around each other in a hot sweaty pile almost funny to him.

It’s when he registers that the movement against his scalp is the soft caress of Yuuri’s fingers dragging through his hair that everything snaps sharply back into focus. He quickly pulls out and shifts away from Yuuri’s hold, buttoning his shirt back up as he turns away from him, mind racing.

_Wrong move Nikiforov. You need to leave. Now._

Again, they don’t talk as they collect their discarded pieces of clothing, but after last time Victor can almost taste the awkwardness lingering in the air around them.

They hadn’t fixed anything, hadn’t resolved their fight and had barely talked outside of nastily quipping at each other. The anger is still very present in the air between them, but it’s nothing compared to the cold feeling pooling in Victor’s gut, something he can’t quite place.

Fear? Shame? Longing?

He shakes his head, ignoring it as he knots the condom and puts it in his pocket.

“You don’t have to stay with them you know.”

Yuuri’s words cut quietly through the dim light in the showroom, but linger like a bad smell in the air.

Victor bites back his initial response, irritation flaring at how Yuuri presumed to know anything about his life.

Any other person would have gotten either a verbal or physical smack for such words, but as he goes to answer with venom, a small thought starts brewing at the front of his mind.

Yuuri really doesn’t know anything. And there isn’t any way he ever could despite the growing frustration that Victor might want him to.

He runs a hand down his face as his anger starts to quiet a little, before he starts to walk away. He knows he’s acting cold, and he hates himself for thinking that.

_It’s exactly how he’s supposed to act, how this whole situation was supposed to go… and yet-_

He stops the train of thought before it can worm into his mind any further. He knows where it ends and frankly he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

He sighs slowly before he finally answers Yuuri, desperately trying to keep his shoulders squared and his head held high as he walks briskly towards the exit.

“Yes. I do.”

***

The fourth time is a surprise.

After their last time together, Victor is sure he’s finally broken the cycle, that even if he might crave the feeling of his body again, there was no way Yuuri would want to see him. So it’s rather the shock when he finds Yuuri leaning up against his car outside his local bar, hair pushed back, glasses off, top button undone.

Victor quickly flicks his eyes up and down the dark street, making sure none of his colleagues were in sight before he slowly saunters up to him.

“How did you know I was here?”

Yuuri smirks and pushes off the car. “You aren’t the only one who can do a little detective work you know.” His smile deepens as he points to the fuzzy poodle head hanging from the rear-view mirror. “Plus, it was easy to guess which car was yours.”

Victor can’t help but smile back. While he’d kill any man who’d dare insult the choice of decor in his car, something about the sweet pink curve of Yuuri’s lips was just infectious.  “Why are you here?”

Something briefly flickers across Yuuri’s expression, before he sets his smile back in place and shrugs. “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

Victor tries not to let the joy at seeing him show on his face as he walks round him casually, voice as low and teasing as he can make it.

_If Yuuri is here, there’s only going to be one outcome._

“We’re pretty far from the store you know.”

He doesn’t even notice Yuuri’s hand disappearing into his pocket before he’s waving his own car keys in front of his face, tongue briefly flicking out to wet his bottom lip. “I think we can work something out.”

It’s slow this time. Victor’s passenger-side seat is reclined as far as it can go, his hands resting lightly on Yuuri’s hips as the other man shifts on top of him with soft, careful movements.

They’d moved the car to a more secluded spot, but even so they stay as quiet as they can. Victor keeps his bottom lip firmly clamped between his teeth, swallowing a loud moan as Yuuri twists his hips and rips another blistering wave of pleasure from him.

Victor is too far gone to care about any arbitrary set of rules he’s set up, why Yuuri was really here or what this would mean for the both of them. He just sits back and drinks in the sight of Yuuri slowly moving above him, the pretty angles of his face shrouded in the soft blue evening shadows, his throat a sweet line against the roof of his car.

Victor reaches between them and grips his cock, slowly stroking him to help coax him into orgasm a little quicker. Yuuri’s eyes screw shut at the feeling, his hips picking up the pace as the heat between them starts to rapidly build.

It’s intoxicating to watch.

They finish within seconds of each other, Yuuri falling forward onto Victor’s chest, lips wet and warm against his neck as he starts to slow his breathing.

Victor can hear the same loud thoughts from the last few times ready to scream in his mind about what this all means, but he shuts them away. He’s far too content to even think about caring right now. He doesn’t stop himself as he lightly drags his fingers down the damp curve of Yuuri’s spine, something warm and new sparking in his heart at the contented sigh that vibrates against his skin as he does it again.

He holds him in the darkness for a few more minutes. His hands are gentle against the small of his back as the moon peeks out from the thick clouds, casting a cool silvery light across Yuuri’s skin. He can’t deny how lovely a sight it is.

“You know, this is when you should tell me that we can’t see each other again,” Victor murmurs as Yuuri finally moves in his arms, pressing his head more comfortably against Victor’s neck.

He feels the hot breath of Yuuri sigh against his throat before he answers, words small and soft. “We shouldn’t.”

“But?” His hands reflexively tighten against Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri sighs again, finally lifting his head to meet his gaze. His eyes are shining and deep even in the darkness, the tiniest smile painting his lips. “But, I don’t think that’s going to stop either of us is it?”

***

After that he stops counting.

It becomes somewhat of a routine. Meet. Chat. Fuck.

And Victor couldn’t be happier.

Mainly because they’d finally switched the rough carpet of Yuuri’s office for an actual bed.

They normally eat afterwards. Usually dinner, sometimes breakfast if it’s early enough. One time they don’t bother getting out of bed, Yuuri rolling over to ring for room service from whatever hotel they happened to fall into that evening and proceeding to order almost everything on the menu. Victor loses the coin toss and has to throw on a robe to collect their meal. He avoids eye contact with the woman holding the bill, perfectly aware she’s staring at the series of fresh purple marks dotted in a very visible pattern down his throat and chest.

It’s also the time when he feels something in their relationship shift. Sitting next to a completely naked Yuuri stuffing tagliatelle into his mouth while talking about which colours he was thinking about repainting his apartment, he finally puts his finger on it.

It’s almost… normal.

Victor can’t have normal, he knows that. Knows he gave up normal a long time ago in favour of something that he thought would put him above a normal man. That would make him happy. Yet that doesn’t stop him from dipping his finger in the rapidly melting ice cream at the foot of the bed and quickly smearing it above Yuuri’s lip in a crude, chocolately moustache.

Yuuri scrunches his nose at the action but falls on his back, peels of laughter bouncing around the plush space when Victor dives for him, licking his work of his rapidly reddening skin.

Rolling and giggling in the sheets quickly dissolves into more heated touches and then into another round of languid sex.

Moving inside of Yuuri while he gently sips the quiet moans spilling from his sugar-sweet lips is when something else hits him. Something which has him laughing softly against his mouth as he hooks his arms around Yuuri’s torso to pull him impossibly closer.

This is what happy really does feel like.

***

Spending time with Yuuri is almost unreal. Not just because of his frankly inhuman skills in the bedroom, but also the feeling of just being with him. It’s like all the colours in the world are just a little bit more vivid, foods more sweet, sleep more peaceful.

He doesn’t ask about Victor’s job and Victor doesn’t tell him the details. He just makes sure to be one-hundred per cent clean whenever he sees him. He knows it’s basically a lie, that if Yuuri ever saw what he actually did day to day he’d mostly likely run for the hills. He also knows that Yuuri probably thinks about it, probably hears the whispers of the mob’s activity whistling down the streets near IKEA but just doesn’t have the heart to bring it up. It kills Victor a little inside.

He wants to come clean, to tell him everything and exactly who he is but he just can’t quite bring himself to.

Yuuri was choosing to live in blissful ignorance and for now that was enough for Victor. The future could wait. Living in the present worked just fine for him, especially when that present involved being anywhere with Yuuri.

Holding him in his arms sometimes Victor wonders if this is actually real or if he’s just in the longest, most wonderful dream of his life.

Still, all dreams come to an end.

The future decides to come crashing up to him in his bedroom on a softly sunny Wednesday morning.

The night before was the first time Yuuri had come to his actual house. He knew it was dangerous, that after this, Yuuri would know where to go should he want to turn him in, that one wrong turn could have him face to face with a whole pile of illegal items.

And yet he really isn’t worried at all. At least until he gets a message from Yuri the next morning.

He stares down at the series of texts as he pulls on is suit jacket, trying not to tug his bottom lip between his teeth too hard.

_They’re pushing for the downtown developments. Rumour is Yakov’s eyeing you to head the project. Meet me at the office in half an hour._

He has to remind himself to breathe as he reads the message again and again, making sure he’s understanding it correctly.

This is what he wanted. What everything he’d done for the past ten years had been leading up to. It had all finally come together… and yet he feels uneasy.

Very uneasy.

He puts his phone back on the nightstand and sits down against his bed, a thousand thoughts about what this really means chattering loudly in his mind.

_All your hard work has finally paid off._

_Think of the money._

_Think how happy Yakov will be if you do this right._

_And Yuuri can-_

Yuuri.

He tastes blood as he bites his lip harder.

He can’t not tell him. This involves him too, a _lot._ How can he spin this to him so he won’t-

“You know, I might work with bathroom fixtures a lot, but that might be greatest shower I’ve ever used.”

Victor’s thoughts are halted by the sound of Yuuri’s voice as he walks out of the bathroom, throwing the towel he was using to dry his hair onto the ground as he goes.

His mouth goes slightly dry at the sight of him.

He’s still pink and damp from the shower as he crosses the room and starts aimlessly searching through one of Victor’s drawers, probably looking for underwear. His skin is bathed golden in the early morning light, droplets of water clinging like crystals to his skin as he adjusts the towel slung low on his hips. Seeing him walking around his room so comfortably, wrapped in _his_ towels, smelling of _his_ shampoo, the normality of the image has a lump starting to form in his throat.

Yuuri continues obliviously, pulling out a pair of boxers as he mindlessly rambles. “I mean the water pressure in there is great, and I’m not going to ask about the step you’ve had installed, but I really think your bathroom could benefit from- Ah!”

The rest of his words are lost as Victor crawls over to grab him around the middle and throw him back on the bed. Yuuri’s eyes are wide with surprise as Victor settles over him, reaching down to lightly brush the softness of his stomach before hooking his fingers into the top of the towel and gently tugging until it falls open.

“My someone’s insatiable this morning,” he gasps as Victor leans down to start kissing along his throat, his fingers drawing teasing circles on the petal-soft skin of his inner thigh. “Don’t you have a meeting?”

Victor lifts himself up a little, smiling at the sight of his tie trailing against Yuuri’s bare chest, the black silk a stark contrast against the pretty flush of his skin.

He knows he has to face what’s coming, that he has the biggest decision of his entire life to make once he meets with Yuri and Yakov, but right now with Yuuri so happy and naked underneath him, he can push those thoughts away.

For a few more minutes at least.

He lowers his face to gently press his lips against Yuuri’s, tasting the cool of his toothpaste as he whispers a feather soft kiss against his mouth.

_“For you, it can wait.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Victor, You got it baaaaaaaaaad.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr but who knows what’s going to happen to that site.


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